


On Love: Hope

by jumpinglamps



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: AU, For chapters not yet written, M/M, Rating May Change, Rating has changed, Slow Burn, VictUuri, Victuri, Vikturi, Yuri on Ice - Freeform, at least I think it's going to be, the star wars au no one asked for, viktuuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-09-18 18:23:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9397439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumpinglamps/pseuds/jumpinglamps
Summary: My first multi-chapter fic!Yuri is a promising Padawan, training to take the Jedi trials with his peers, but his dreams take a turn for the worse when he suddenly stops being able to connect to the Force. Cue Jedi Master!Victor/Padawan!Yuri Star Wars fic (minus the "Wars" because I am a hopeless sap that just really likes magic in space, okay?). Yuri K. is spelled with one u in this fic because I'm going with the spelling from the show's website.





	1. The Galaxy’s Finest

Yuri Katsuki is the worst Padawan in the entire galaxy.

 

Okay, maybe not the worst – it isn’t as if he’s being tempted by the dark side or starting wars or anything dramatic like that. But certainly, a better Padawan wouldn’t be sitting in the corner of a training room, hyperventilating as their Master, who had just had his left eyebrow fried off by the blast of a training droid, attempted to console them.

 

It hadn’t always been this way. Yuri was at the top of his class in every area of training when he was a youngling. He had been the topic of praise when it came to force focusing practice, being the first youngling in the room to levitate not only the small pillow he had been instructed to work with, but a couple of his nearby fellow students as well. He managed to deflect the attack of four training droids at once the very first time he handled a light saber. He’d even become a subject of envy to some of the other students; he noticed only when a few had been pulled out of class unexpectedly to meditate with their very stern-looking Masters.

 

And, though he felt bad for the effect he seemed to have on his fellow students, Yuri loved training. He loved the way the Force made the world simultaneously fade away and blink to life, vivid and expansive. The way sound and vision dulled when he tapped into it, leaving only color and light and warmth burning around him, inside him. Complete peace and chaos all at once, a feeling of finally being at home in his own body, as if he was at last doing what he was born to do.

 

But nothing could have prepared him for the trials.

 

His Master, Celestino, had insisted on keeping Yuri at pace with his peers, against the Council’s wishes to advance him with the older Padawans. He had seen in Yuri what no one but his own Master, his teacher, his guardian in life could have detected – fear.

 

It always started as a small pocket of nerves, undetectable when he was among the other Padawans, who naturally battled similar bouts of nervousness. But while the other students used their nerves to propel them forward, to grasp at the Force that much tighter, Yuri’s mental presence faded behind it, almost as if he had been temporarily cut off from the Force. The first time Celestino had noticed this happening was when the Padawans had been asked to give an impromptu performance of their light saber skills to a couple of Masters from the Council. The other students’ Masters bolstered the star pupil, Yuri, to demonstrate with his Master’s saber first, likely in an attempt to give their own students a moment to collect themselves. Yuri’s force presence had been almost noisy at first, even as Celestino gave him words of encouragement. But then, after he missed the second blast from the training droid, he had been silent, like a hole had opened up in the center of the room. Celestino pulled him out early that day and held him back from training for the next week in an attempt to root out the source of his unstable emotions.

 

Yuri had certainly improved since then, though he still struggled greatly with his grasp on the Force when he was asked to formally perform. And never had he struggled so greatly as the day of his trials. He was not the only Padawan in his class to miss the mark on his first attempt at the trials, but none of the others seems to suffer so greatly in the weeks _after_ their failure as Yuri.

 

Celestino started scheduling regular training sessions again a week after the trials had ended, attempting to get Yuri’s force juices flowing once more with some of his favorite exercises. And though Yuri was always on time for his lessons and followed along in the physical demands of the activities, he continued to lack a force presence, to the point that other Jedi seemed uncomfortable around him. Standing too close to him felt akin to being doused in gallons of water so cold, that the chill was all you could feel, all other senses shocked into silence, like air escaping a collapsing lung.

 

This can’t go on, Celestino thinks as he smooths his hand gently across Yuri’s shaking shoulders, the pull of Yuri’s void at the very least lessening the pain flaring above his left eye. If left alone, Celestino fears Yuri might be cut off from the Force all together, and if it felt anything like Celestino feels now, simply standing close to him… That would be a fate far worse than death.

 

\--------

 

Yuri stares listlessly at the ceiling of his bedroom, listening to his mother and sister rattle around in the kitchen below him. If he holds his breath, he can hear his father’s soft footsteps padding along the hallways, hear the quiet song he hums to himself as he tidies the vacant rooms in the inn. The delicate murmur of life milling about the inn almost feels like the Force wrapping around him again. Almost.

 

After his last breakdown in training, Celestino had suggested to Yuri that he leave the Jedi enclave on Corriban and “visit” home again. He had been expecting this. Yuri knew that his condition was affecting the other Jedi, that his presence was becoming a hindrance to their progress. It would only have been a matter of time before someone altered the Council and had him ejected from the Jedi Order, if not worse. He had heard horror stories among the other Padawan of Jedi that had been permanently cut off from the Force when the Council had judged them to be too dangerous. The once-Jedi were turned into husks of their former selves, with no hope of ever feeling even a whisper of the Force again. So Yuri had accepted Celestino’s suggestion with no resistance – at least this way he had some chance, however small, of being able to feel the Force again someday. This acceptance, however, did not save him from the heavy weight of shame and embarrassment that came with the decision.

 

He had left almost immediately after his last breakdown, partly to avoid having to say goodbye to his friends, who would no doubt demand an explanation for his departure. Yuri can feel his throat closing up at the memory of his mother’s poorly concealed surprise over the hologram when he told her. The pity that set deep into Celestino’s eyes as drove him to his space shuttle. But none of that had gutted him quite so thoroughly as his surprise encounter with Victor Nikiforov, the youngest known sentient in line to take the Jedi Master trials, galaxy renowned peace maker, the man who had put a stop to the great Civil War of Jorabath without taking a single life, and the Jedi Yuri had spent the majority of his young life admiring.

 

Idolization was usually frowned upon by the Jedi, but what Yuri felt for Victor was different, something Celestino had considered constructive, and even encouraged. Yuri didn’t want any piece of Victor – didn’t want his autograph, or a photo, or to touch his light saber, as so many of his fans had requested. He didn’t even want to be better than Victor – he simply wanted to be able to stand along side him someday, to go on the types of missions Victor would take, to carry the same sort of peace with him that Victor seemed to exude from the core of his being. So naturally, nothing could have been more mortifying than to run into Victor Nikiforov on that day, the day Yuri ran from the Jedi, from everything he had spent his life working toward.

 

And he could tell – the way Victor’s serine smile morphed and fell, the way his mouth fell slack and eyes flew wide. Victor could feel the void inside of Yuri, just as all the other Jedi he had encountered over the past few weeks had. The one and only time Victor Nikiforov had ever looked at him, and it was at the lowest moment of his life.

 

Yuri groans and flips over onto his stomach. All his attempts at meditation had failed miserably. What was even the point of coming back to his parents’ old inn if he couldn’t concentrate on healing? A soft knock at the door draws Yuri from his thoughts and to his feet. When he opens his bedroom door he’s met with his father’s smile and a towel.

 

“The private open-air bath is vacant now.” He offers the fluffy white towel in his hand to Yuri, who accepts it wordlessly. “You should be able to have it to yourself the rest of the night.” His father’s smile holds for a long moment, until Yuri finally responds with a small smile of his own. It doesn’t touch his eyes, but it’s the first smile he’s attempted since the trials – has it already been two months?

 

“Thank you,” Yuri murmurs with an incline of his head. His father claps a hand to his shoulder, offering a bit of soothing weight briefly before turning around and making his way back downstairs to the main hall. Yuri sighs and turns the towel over in his hands, suddenly grateful for the fact that he was born unto a family of non-force sensitives.

 

He sneaks out the inn’s side entrance and then sets out along a path marked with large, flat stones. The air is beginning to chill, fall already fading slowly to winter on this side of the planet. The Jedi enclave on Corriban should be feeling the warm beginnings of spring about now. Yuri approaches and unlatches the gate to his family’s private spring, not bothering to lock it behind him. No one is up and about this time of night in this small tourist town anyway. He undresses and folds his clothes into a neat pile on a natural rock shelf just inside the gate and slips gingerly into the warm water. He sighs as it envelops him; it really has been too long since he’s been home. Yuri lets himself for a moment think only of the warmth of the water around him, letting the heat seep into each of his muscles methodically, focusing on the way his body seems to release just a little bit of the tension it always seems to carry these days.

 

And Yuri can feel the void, a dull ache that clouds his every movement, squeezes at his very breath. But it isn’t unbearable. Yuri closes his eyes to try and sink further into this physical moment. He focuses on the constant, gentle movements of his body as water circulates around the bath, feels tiny bubbles form and pop on his skin. Colder air nips at his cheeks and the tip of his nose and Yuri wonders idly if Victor likes spring. Warmer weather would suit him, Yuri muses, though he suspects Victor wouldn’t be out of place in the cold either. Victor wouldn’t be out of place anywhere, as grounded as he is. Yuri remembers the very first time he had ever laid eyes on Victor Nikiforov. He was but a youngling and had only been at the enclave for a few months. He remembers missing his family terribly, and often found himself alone, save for one young female Padawan, Yuuko, slightly older than him and the only person he’d met in the enclave that had come from the same planet as him. She had dragged Yuri excitedly that day to watch the older Padawans go through their trials. One Padawan in particular, a few years younger than the rest. Yuuko had talked about him non-stop in the days leading up to the trials, proclaiming him to be the brightest, most powerful force-user of his age.

 

It hadn’t taken Yuri but one guess to discover which of the Padawans lined up in the hall outside the trail room door was Victor. That was the first and only time Yuri had ever physically felt the presence of another person, felt him from more than 20 feet away as they approached the small collection of Jedi-hopefuls from down the hall. The Force seemed to collect around him, cling to him like light dusting the surface of a moon. And when his eyes finally caught up with his overwhelmed feelings – Victor was _beautiful_. An angel tragically lost from his spot among the stars. Long, silver hair was pulled back low behind him, long strands falling free in front of his ears, giving his face a glimmering, delicate frame. Eyes like the clearest sky in the middle of summer. For a moment, just a brief moment, Yuri had imagined that their eyes met, that a small gasp and a smile had tugged at Victor’s lips before an excited, too-loud whisper had tugged Yuri away.

 

“Yuri, there he is!” Yuuko had breathed into his ear, “Isn’t he cool?”

 

“Don’t you want to say ‘hi,’ Yuri?”

 

“ _Yuri_?”

 

Yuri jolts and splashes to his feet, spinning around to find the source of the very real, not-memory-Yuuko voice. A numb static weighs Yuri’s arms and fingers down by his sides, barely aware of the water brushing his fingertips, of the air raising small hairs all along his torso and along the back of his neck. Try as he might, Yuri can’t seem to remember how his mouth is supposed to work, leaving his jaw to slack, dumb and open. Because Victor Nikiforov is standing in the open gate of his hot spring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have no idea how many years I've waited to use the word "youngling" in formal writing.
> 
> I'm hoping to have the next chapter up in a few days. Might change the rating to explicit if it gets super frick-fracle-y later. This was a lot of fun to write - I hope it's fun to read!


	2. Falling Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive! Sorry, I'm a bit of a slow writer...
> 
> If it isn't already fairly obvious, this is going to be a bit of a slow burn fic. Bring on that magic space fluff!

Yuri’s mouth opens and closes a few times soundlessly before he becomes aware of Victor’s eyes – his sky-deep eyes – drifting downward. Yuri yelps and ducks under the water, remembering suddenly that he is very exposed. Victor – or perhaps the hallucination of Victor Yuri seems to be having – brakes out into a grin too big for his face.

 

“Yuri!” Victor takes a wide stance, gesturing broadly toward Yuri. “I thought I felt your presence here!”

 

“My—Wait, you felt…?” Yuri stammers, wishing he hadn’t left his towel so far away from the edge of the bath. And, as if reading his mind, Victor steps forward and picks up the towel from the natural shelf, holding it out toward Yuri.

 

This can’t be real. Maybe he’s passed out in the bath and is having a dream. Or a guest had slipped something strange into his food when he was eating in the main hall, or left some sort of hallucinogens in the hot spring water. Maybe the Force has taken pity on him and is giving him the best hallucination he could ever hope to have. That seems far more likely than The Victor Nikiforov traveling to this backwater planet just to see the world’s smallest tourist town, and far, far more likely than Victor knowing his name.

 

“Perhaps I should have knocked?” Victor’s accent is thicker in that sentence, his smile faltering in a semblance of an apology as he continues to hold out the towel.

 

As if of its own accord, Yuri’s hand breaches the surface of the water to grab the towel, his eyes unable to leave Victor’s. Letting out a small breath, Victor stands and turns his back to Yuri – a demonstration of privacy? This imaginary Victor is a lot more polite than Yuri anticipated.

 

Cautiously, Yuri stands and wraps the towel around himself, his bare skin stinging as it prickles against the cool air – well this isn’t a dream then. He isn’t quite close enough to his clothes to try and get dressed formally, so Yuri settles with wrapping himself up in his own arms before he calls out to the illusion.

 

“V-Victor? What are you doing here?” Yuri’s breath rattles as his body convulses against the breeze. Victor spins around, positively beaming.

 

“Why, I’m here for you, Yuri! I’m going to be your teacher!” Victor gestures toward Yuri with one hand, and to himself with the other. Yuri stares blankly at him, sorting through the chaos of questions filling his brain. In what way does this possibly make sense? This is some kind of twisted joke – it has to be.

 

“But I h-have a Master.” Yuri’s gut twists as Celestino’s pity-ridden eyes yet again fill his mind. There’s no way Celestino would ever agree to take Yuri on as his student again, not after the mess he’d very narrowly avoided creating within the Jedi enclave itself.

 

“You must be cold!” Victor steps forward, ignoring Yuri’s quiet plea, and shrugs off his jacket. Yuri’s breath hitches when he feels the heavy fabric hit his shoulders, and shivers violently when he feels Victor’s hand, warm and gentle, touch the back of his own.

 

“Let’s discus this somewhere a bit warmer, hm?” Victor’s smile never fades, even as he steps back out of Yuri’s space, folding his hands neatly behind his back. “I’ll wait right out here,” he winks and steps out the open gate, letting it close behind him.

 

Yuri blinks at the gate, frozen in place. Victor’s jacket is on his shoulders? Victor _touched_ him? Victor’s really here? Victor is… Victor is waiting for him!

 

Yuri scrambles to get his clothes back on his body, twice putting an arm through the wrong hole (and once in the wrong garment) before he’s finally made himself presentable again. When Yuri apprehensively peeks out beyond the gate he half expects Victor to be gone, still not entirely convinced he isn’t having a very convincing dream. But there he is, smiling to himself and fiddling with a data pad, only looking up when he hears the creak of the gate’s hinges.

 

“Lead the way!” Victor beams, stowing the data pad in his pocket. Behind his back, Yuri pinches at the skin on his wrist, just to make sure. Yep, that definitely hurt.

 

\--------

 

The strangest part of all this is the nonchalant reaction from his entire family. Not one of them seems impressed or even surprised that a galaxy renowned Jedi has come to town to see the Jedi’s worst dropout. His mother has snacks and tea on the table, ready to go as if Yuri had brought a friend home to hang out for a few hours. And Victor speaks to both his parents with a familiarity only Victor Nikiforov could have with a perfect stranger, talking animatedly about the inn, the politeness of the people he’d encountered at the space shuttle station. Even with Mari, who takes a considerable amount of time to warm up to anyone, speaks to Victor as if she’s known him for years when she pops her head in the doorway to their dining room, telling Victor that all his things had been put in the unused ballroom upstairs. Wait – his things?

 

“You’re staying here?” Yuri blurts, turning a little red at his own rudeness. Victor just blinks at him.

 

“I can’t very well teach you from another planet, Yuri.” Victor chuckles and rests his chin in the palm of his hand, letting his elbow support him on the table.

 

“But why would you do that for me?” Yuri can’t stop himself from saying. How did Victor know where to find him? What could have possibly inspired Victor Nikiforov to abandon whatever important task the Council had inevitably presented him with and come teach Yuri, of all the potential Padawans in the Academy? Unless… “Did the Council send you?” Yuri notices his voice is barely above a whisper. If the Council knows about his problem and is trying to save him, then it’s only a matter of time before they deem him hopeless and cut him off from—

 

“No. This has nothing to do with the Council.” Victor’s tone is sharp and startles Yuri from his thoughts. Silence hangs over them for a heartbeat before Victor starts again, reaching across the table to lay his hand over Yuri’s, his tone considerably softer. “I want to help you heal. Your previous teacher didn’t seem capable of doing that, and I think we both have a lot we can learn from each other.”

 

Victor keeps Yuri’s eyes locked with his own, leaning closer with every word, but not too close. Yuri is sure even this proximity to his own force void must be painful to Victor. He replays Victor’s words in his mind, and knows he has no reason to reject what Victor is offering. But what can Yuri possibly offer Victor in return? What exactly is he expecting from Yuri?

 

Yuri breaks their eye contact, shying away from the intensity of it to look down at his tea. All he can manage in response is a quiet, “It wasn’t Master Celestino’s fault.” But Victor doesn’t react to his words. He simply leans his head so that his cheek presses into his palm, eyes boring a hole through the top of Yuri’s head.

 

Maybe Victor is right. The thought bubbles up through the fog in Yuri’s brain and he can’t seem to squash it back down. Maybe he does know something Celestino doesn’t, can see something Celestino is incapable of seeing. And even if he can’t, this would be a sure fire way to test whether or not Yuri would ever be able to feel the Force again. If anyone can fix him, it would be Victor, and if Victor can’t, then he would have an obligation to turn himself over to the Council.

 

Yuri pulls himself from Victor’s grasp, sitting up straight, palms resting on his knees, and stares unwaveringly into Victor’s eyes. “Please be my teacher!”

 

Yuri’s heart pounds from the vigor in his own words. Victor sits up and blinks at him owlishly before cracking another larger-than-life smile.

 

“Of course!”

 

 

 

His family’s smiles seem somehow smug as they mill around the inn the rest of that night, especially Mari’s. Hers is near mocking, and Yuri is so tempted to knock it off her face with a story about how she’d inadvertently confessed her attraction to the wrong person in school once on a dare to confess to her crush but… no, Yuri knows better than to give into temptations like that. Let her have her fun. It probably isn’t mean-spirited anyway. Probably.

 

Yuri soon discovers that Victor’s “stuff” entails quite a bit more than what would be considered typical of Jedi luggage. The spare ballroom has four rows of boxes piled halfway to the ceiling along with a lounge chair, bedframe and desk Yuri doesn’t recognize. Victor has denied any assistance the family and Yuri offer him to help unpack his daunting pile of “stuff,” but Yuri still feels guilty when he bids Victor goodnight from over a stack of boxes.

 

“Oh! Yuri!” Victor pops around the boxes, latching on almost magnetically to Yuri’s wrist and chin. Yuri flushes at the contact, but stills instead of pulling away, as his gut begs him to.

 

“We’ll start your training tomorrow morning. Don’t sleep in too late.” And Victor pours into him from his eyes, holding Yuri’s steady, from his voice, dripping in honey, from his fingertips, still attached to the underside of Yuri’s chin and resting so lightly on the inside of his wrist. Yuri wonders absently if maybe a little bit of himself is pouring back into Victor at the same time, in the same ways. And then he isn’t fighting his gut anymore.

 

Yuri’s hands hit the wall behind him before he consciously tells his body to move, chest rising and falling a bit more rapidly than is comfortable. Victor blinks at him wordlessly. Clenching his hands behind his back, Yuri inclines his head slightly, breaking their eye contact. “Well, um, goodnight!” He pushes out in a short breath before making his dash a couple feet down the hall to his own room.

 

He slams the bedroom door behind him and jumps into bed, pulling the covers over his head like a kid hiding from monsters. Yuri sits like this for a long moment, waiting for his breath to catch up to him before finally freeing his face from the blankets, cool air biting his nose. His eyes are drawn upward to the window above his bedframe, toward the moons beaming back down at him. Only two of the five are visible that night, which makes the stars around them seem that much brighter.

 

Then his view from the window seems to get suddenly slimmer, dimmer. Yuri reaches up to touch his face and realizes he’s smiling – a real, genuine smile – for the first time he can recall in months. He’s _happy_.

 

\--------

 

Victor wasn’t kidding about the no sleeping in thing.

 

The sun is a hazy dust of pink on the horizon outside Yuri’s window when he is rattled awake by a banging at his door. Yuri scrambles out of bed, nearly knocking his glasses to the floor in his attempt to put them on his face. He throws open the door, half expecting a break-in or a fire or some kind of emergency, only to find Victor Nikiforov, standing in all his half naked glory with his signature Victor grin. Without even a moment to feel embarrassed by the site of Victor’s bare chest and torso, Yuri is yanked forward with a boisterous “Good morning!” Belatedly, Yuri tries to turn back for a change of clothes, a barely conscious portion of his brain telling him sleeping sweats aren’t going to be appropriate for whatever Victor has planned, but Victor insists they push onward downstairs.

 

They skip the dining hall entirely and go straight for the front door, pausing only long enough for Yuri to slip on some shoes before Victor pushes them both outside. Yuri blinks dumbly at the thin, growing line of light on the horizon. They must be the only two sentients awake in Hasetsu at this hour.

 

And Yuri dares to ask “Victor, what are we doing out here?” He keeps his eyes firmly locked on Victor’s face, too embarrassed to allow his eyes to travel down any further.

 

“A sound body is essential to a sound mind!” Victor half sings, shuffling his feet underneath him to start jogging in place. “I’ve found going for a run first thing in the morning helps me center myself.” He starts drifting forward, silently urging Yuri to follow him. Yuri blinks at Victor slowly, not quite buying into that idea, but he follows anyway, too tired to argue the point. And he supposes he could use the exercise anyway – he’s been pretty sedentary for months now.

 

It’s been a very long time, Yuri realizes, since he’s seen the sun rise on the beaches of Hasetsu. The pale blue and pink splashes of light paint everything so delicately, Yuri almost forgets how loudly his legs are screaming from their months of disuse. He’s a little embarrassed at just how many breaks they have to take for Yuri to catch his breath, but Victor never seems impatient with him. Of course he isn’t – he’s Victor Nikiforov. You don’t get to be the greatest Jedi of your age by being impatient.

 

They run until the sun has completely risen, colorful rays giving way to a cool, bright light that seems to touch everything. Maybe the run was working a little, Yuri thinks even as his lungs heave unevenly in an attempt to gather more and more air. He definitely feels more peaceful than he has in a long time, though he isn’t entirely sure that doens’t have something to do with Victor’s presence.

 

“It gets easier after a few days,” Victor chuckles as Yuri clutches at the front of his shirt as if that would somehow help him steady his breathing. Yuri has half a mind to toss a glare his way but stops short, pulling his emotions back in before they can escape. Victor stares at him blankly and Yuri pales for the briefest moment in panic – can Victor feel his void? Is it hurting him? This was a mistake; Victor never should have come and put himself at risk like this.

 

“Yuri,” Victor seems to always speak in song, “do you like peanuts?”

 

Yuri blinks his way out of his thoughts, but still has enough of a mind to nod out a response. Victor smiles and pulls a peanut flavored protein bar out of his pocket, which Yuri accepts automatically. His stomach is starting to feel very empty.

 

They eat in silence, watching light play across the ocean waters, Yuri stealing small glances in Victor’s direction, just to confirm he’s really still there. And for the first time Yuri notices Victor’s hair is short. Of course, he’d known when Victor had cut it off – the whole enclave had buzzed with rumors as to what could have prompted him to cut of his long, beautiful braid of spun silver – but this is the first time he’s actually looked properly at the way his shorter hair frames his face, the way it almost seems to shield him when he leans forward, so that he didn’t have to see anyone, so that no one can see him. Not for the first time, Yuri wonders why Victor came to Hasetsu. Going for early morning runs with the galaxy’s slowest Jedi can’t possibly be his motivation, and the thought of him coming out of pity makes Yuri feel positively sick, but what are his other alternatives?

 

Yuri realizes he has zoned out yet again when a cold water bottle comes to rest on his shoulder, making him jump. When did Victor even leave to buy that?

 

“You’ll need that on the way back. You ready?” Victor is starting to bounce in place again, drifting backwards along the sidewalk. Yuri suppresses a groan – when exactly is this supposed to get easier again?

 

 

 

After they’d run all the back to the inn, Yuri is finally allowed to shower and change. He dons a more formal-looking set of sweats, suspecting (correctly) that the exercise portion of his day is not quite over. Victor takes that as an excuse to keep Yuri’s body moving well into the early evening. Surprisingly, none of the exercises they practice are Jedi-specific – nothing focused on saber movement or agility or stamina. Just a simple assortment of strength and cardio based drills.

 

While exhaustion tugs at every inch of Yuri’s body by the end of the day, he also feels more alive than he has in a long time, his fingertips tingling and warm as he relaxes downstairs with his family and a few random guests. Victor leaves for the hot springs as soon as dinner is over with excitement dancing like a light behind his eyes.

 

Yuri goes to sleep that night with another uncontrollable smile on his face. He dreams of those sky-deep eyes and the ocean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do y'all want to see Yurio in this fic or nah? I don't want to follow the original plot too closely but I also don't want to leave everyone's fav angry child out of the space adventures.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Kaleidoscope

Never in his life could Yuri have ever imagined he would get to spend so much alone time with Victor. Well, almost alone – for just under three weeks Yuri and Victor have kept consistently with their morning runs and afternoon exercises, all of which are usually out in public for a lack of private work out space. Though, as truly grateful as Yuri is for even a second of Victor’s time, he can’t help but wonder if Victor has something in mind for his teachings outside of physical fitness.

 

It will soon be a full month since Victor unceremoniously dropped in on Yuri’s bath, and they haven’t once discussed Yuri’s connection to the Force (or lack thereof). When he’s alone his mind often dwells on this concern, wondering if Victor is avoiding force training because he is afraid of getting too close to Yuri’s void, and can Yuri really blame him? Sometimes, when he isn’t thinking about it, Yuri barely notices the void in him, but when he doesn’t have anything to distract him, the pain is suffocating. Like his insides have been scooped out and replaced with solid ice.

 

But in these moments when Yuri feels most vulnerable, feels his closest to falling apart, Victor always seems to pop his head around the corner, some random personal question for Yuri on the tip of his tongue. The first few times he had done it, Yuri had been alone in his own room or in the bath and was so startled by Victor’s sudden appearance that he’d slammed doors and gates in his face without thinking (which he’d followed up of course with profuse apologies). Victor, though, is not one to be discouraged, and while Yuri has yet to be comfortable enough to let him into the private space of his bedroom, he has started calmly answering Victor’s questions when he drops in at random. Yuri finds the distraction a bit comforting, now that he’s found a way to stop jumping out of his skin every time it happens.

 

The dawn of the day that officially marks Victor’s third full week in Hasetsu starts as every other day had – woken too early by a shirtless Victor who, amazingly, seems unphased by the ever-dropping temperatures. Yuri has finally gotten over a bit of his embarrassment at Victor’s nakedness, though he still can’t bring himself to let his eyes linger on the expanse of Victor’s bare chest. Every time he does, it makes his chest feel tight and a little… well, he doesn’t have time to think about what that feeling means right now.

 

Yuri has gotten much better at the morning runs, and even finds himself enjoying the way his muscles ripple with every step, the way the cool (cold, if you asked Yuri) morning air bites at his lungs. It’s exhilarating and, Yuri has to admit, fairly centering. And, of course, it helps that he gets to spend the entire two-hour run alongside Victor, pride swelling just a bit in his chest as he finds he can now keep up with Victor’s natural running speed without the need for any breaks.

 

As they approach the inn that morning, the sun’s full rays not quite strong enough to cut the chill from the air, Yuri feels something _off_ about the air surrounding the inn, like someone poking at the edges of his consciousness, interrupting his stream of thought. And the feeling only increases the closer they get. It sets him on edge, and from the corner of his eye he can tell Victor has sensed it too from the way his brow furrows.

 

But as they approach the entrance to the inn, the only sentient Yuri can spot is a small, blonde teenage boy. That can’t be right.

 

“Victor! You asshole!” The blonde boy spots them and lobs a kick in Victor’s direction, which Victor dodges without much effort. Yuri stands back a bit and remains silent, hoping the boy will provide some sort of explanation for his claim and his violence.

 

Victor rubs the back of his head gingerly with a notably forced smile painted across his lips. “Yuri, what a surprise – what have I done this time?” And it takes Yuri a moment to realize Victor isn’t addressing him, but the blonde boy. What an unusual coincidence.

 

“What, now you don’t remember? You fucking jerk!” The younger Yuri holds his hand up in a very rude gesture, leaning carelessly into Victor’s personal space. But Victor seems relatively unphased, if not a little bit guilty. “You _said_ you’d come with me on this task from the council and then you just fucking took off for a month!” Younger Yuri pulls a data pad from the bag slung over his shoulder and thrusts it in Victor’s direction. It automatically pulls up a page with a picture of Kuthos, Thelion’s third moon, which Yuri recalls is inhabited by two different species of sentients that have both migrated there from neighboring planets.

 

“Ah… I said that?” Victor laughs nervously. “Well, what about Master Yakov? Doesn’t he always accompany you on tasks anyway?” This was not been the right thing to say, judging by the way the younger Yuri’s features glaze over red with rage.

 

“This was supposed to be my first task without him! That’s why you were even coming with me! How am I supposed to take the trials if I’ve never even taken on a task without my Master? You prick!” Younger Yuri stuffs the data pad back into his bag and aims another kick for Victor’s legs, which Victor doesn’t bother to dodge this time. He instead remains silent and still, his expression impassive.

 

“Task?” Yuri finally adds himself to the conversation since it seems to have come to a halt – a decision he soon regrets as the young boy’s fury is then turned on him.

 

“You! It’s your fault he’s even here, isn’t it? Stop holding him back already, you freakin’ drop out!” And Yuri can’t respond to that, since it’s pretty much all true, so he falls back into silence. Even though he hadn’t asked Victor to take time away from his other responsibilities to teach him, Yuri knows he selfishly wants him to stay now that he’s here. He isn’t ready to part with Victor, the depth of his own desire a bit overwhelming now that he’s focused on it.

 

Victor is quiet, his finger resting now on his lips in contemplation. His silence is starting to ebb at Yuri’s nerves – he can’t ask Victor to choose him, no matter how badly he wants to. Then, in a motion that startles both Yuris into breaking eye contact with each other, Victor thrusts his hand upward, musical lilt returning to voice as he speaks, “I’ve got it! Why don’t you train with Yuri and I here for another month and then we’ll both go with you on your task!”

 

Yuri’s eyebrows shoot up and he stares at Victor blankly. He wants Yuri to go on a task? Is he expecting Yuri to get back on track to becoming a full-fledged Jedi? Yuri gave up on that a long time ago – that simply doesn’t seem reasonable. Does Victor have that much faith in him?

 

“A _month_?” the younger Yuri spits. “You expect me to sit around on this backward planet with you wasting time for a whole _month_?”

 

Victor nods enthusiastically in response with a new smile, genuine this time. The younger Yuri grumbles and refuses to look at either of them as he fumbles with his bags. He’s still biting out insults and complaints under his breath as he turns and walks into the inn. So he’s staying here, too – this is going to be an interesting month.

 

 

 

The younger Yuri – Yurio, as Mari had dubbed him, much to the young boy’s chagrin – settles into a large room Yuri hadn’t even been aware existed at the opposite end of the hallway from Yuri and Victor’s rooms. It was being used to store a bunch of the family’s memorabilia, from what Yuri can tell as he helps Mari clean it out for Yurio’s use. Considering the amount of physical labor it’s taken to get the room ready, Victor decides to count getting Yurio’s room ready as their training for the day.

 

Yurio gets along surprisingly well with the rest of his family – he isn’t nearly as rude to his parents or Mari, who seem to develop an immediate fondness for the boy. Her rapid acceptance of Victor had made perfect sense, but Yurio? That one has Yuri scratching his head.

 

Victor and Yuri are left with the dining room to themselves after dinner, Yurio moving up to his room to try and sleep off some of his jet lag and the rest of his family going to tend to last minute things around the inn. Victor is the picture of relaxation, drinking his tea at leisure in his loose-fitting night robes, leaning back occasionally to watch the television in the next room, some soap opera re-runs playing on repeat.

 

“Victor?” Yuri peeks up from his teacup. Victor turns his attention back to Yuri with a pleasant hum. “Don’t you think it’s dangerous? Him being a Jedi?” Yuri thumbs nervously at the rim of his cup. Victor obviously has some sort of history with the boy and Yuri isn’t sure he’d respond well to any criticism of him.

 

They’re quiet for a minute, Victor’s lip pursed, though his expression is otherwise even, and thankfully, not offended.

 

“Could you feel his presence this morning?” Victor asks, eyes trained on Yuri’s expression.

 

It takes Yuri a moment to get over the surprise that he can give the answer, “Yes.”

 

Victor hums, “And did he feel dangerous to you then?”

 

And that, he has to take a moment to consider. The boy has been so outwardly angry that Yuri hasn’t paid much attention to the nuances of his force presence. Never once has he ever been overwhelmed by the boy’s presence, and he realizes that is probably because Yurio’s been keeping tabs on it. Though he was obviously furious earlier outside the inn, he never once pushed that emotion into the Force around him, never once allowed it to affect the minds of others in his presence.

 

“No.” Yuri decides. Victor smiles at that and takes a sip of his tea.

 

“Yurio is a very unusual specimen as far as the Jedi are concerned,” Victor murmurs, his expression soft. “The council wasn’t sure what to do with him at first – no one wanted a pupil that seemed so dangerous and unruly. But after I passed my trials, Master Yakov decided to take him on. You know, he’s actually said Yurio’s been easier to teach than I was.” Victor chuckles and Yuri can’t help but join in because how could Victor, calm, lovely Victor, ever be considered difficult?

 

And here it is again – the opportunity to ask him why he’d come to Hasetsu, why he is devoting so much energy and time to Yuri, why he’s dropped everything to come here. But the question is stuck in his throat. He’s scared, he realizes. Yuri isn’t guaranteed a pleasant answer. Victor assured him his arrival had nothing to do with the council, but that still leaves the option of pity, and Yuri hates being pitied. It was part of what set him off so badly in his trials – he would flub a part of a test and immediately see it in the eyes of the Masters around him. The pity in their expressions, laced into their voices as they suggested he move on to the next part of the trial. He had failed and he knew it, but what’s worse was that _they_ knew it and they felt _bad_ for him.

 

“Yuri?” He realizes Victor’s eyes are still resting on his face, quiet and blank. Yuri fidgets, a little scared to meet his eyes with these negative emotions bouncing around inside him.

 

“What are you thinking about?” Victor tilts his head, attempting, unsuccessfully, to catch Yuri’s gaze. Yuri just shakes his head silently in response. Is his void there? He can’t tell. Can Victor? Is it hurting him? But now Victor’s pinky is grazing the top of Yuri’s hand and, oh, that feels nice.

 

“You can’t tell me?” He asks, a little disappointment leaking into his words. Yuri feels a blush creeping high on his cheeks from the contact, not trusting himself for anymore than another silent shake of his head.

 

Victor drops his gaze to their hands and his fingers are worming their way under Yuri’s hand, pushing gently upward so their fingers twin together. Yuri’s pulse quickens and he wants to pull away, badly, but this feels so _nice_ and Victor’s hand is so warm… Maybe just a little bit of this is all right, just for a few minutes.

 

“Gross.” Both men jump at the sound of Yurio’s voice across the room. He sticks his tongue out at them with a sneer as he ducks into the kitchen. Yuri’s sure he’s red all the way up to his ears, but when he peeks up at Victor, he’s surprised to see the same is true of him.

 

Yuri rushes to grab his cup, murmuring quickly that it’s time for him to get to bed and he flees the room. No, he most definitely does not have time to think about what these feelings mean.

 

\--------

 

Yuri is surprised the next morning when he finds Victor standing outside his door alone, wearing a long-sleeved shirt – he thought the point of Yurio staying here was to train with them, and since when does Victor wear a shirt on his run? But he isn’t awake enough for questions, so he follows Victor quietly downstairs and outside as usual.

 

It’s normal for Yuri and Victor’s day to start in relative silence, for light panting and soft footfalls to be the only sounds exchanged between them until they stop halfway through their run for breakfast. So why does this morning feel so different? Perhaps it’s what happened last night. Victor’s always a bit touchy compared to what Yuri is accustomed to, but last night was more than that. He isn’t sure why – he’s held hands with his friends and family before, but this feels separate from that. Yuri spent a good hour staring at his fingers last night, stuck on the strange feeling of emptiness in the spaces where Victor had been.

 

They run the same route they always do, running toward the sun along roads beside the ocean. Yuri lets the smell of the salt-water wash through his lungs, calming him a little.

 

At the halfway point, Victor pauses as he usually does, pulling out protein bars for both of them. Yuri accepts his and leans against the low wall that separates the street from the beach. He watches Victor from the corner of his eye as he eats, finding his expression somewhat impassive. He isn’t sure what to make of that, so he finishes his bar in silence, watching the citizens of Hasetsu make their way out to start the day.

 

“Would you like to rest a bit longer?” Victor’s watching Yuri, head tilted out toward the water. Yuri isn’t sure what he has in mind, but he complies, following Victor to hop over the wall and walk across the cold sand. He hopes almost absently that they’re not resting too long – it’s getting much colder out, winter settling in with a bit more ferocity.

 

Victor plops down on the sand near the water and pats the spot next to him. Yuri follows. But Victor doesn’t say anything – he stares out at the water again, impassive. So Yuri copies him.

 

Then, after a few moments, Victor does speak, “I think you’re ready to start focusing on force training, would you agree?” And Yuri makes an affirmative noise in the back of his throat, wondering why Victor felt the need to ask him this here, now. Victor’s fingers run through the sand beneath him.

 

“I’ve spent a long time thinking how to best approach this… But I’m not sure how to start.” Victor confesses, eyes focused out on the water still. Yuri waits quietly for Victor to continue. “I thought maybe understanding how the problem started might help.” And Victor lets that suggestion hang in the air between them, turning his head finally to look at Yuri again.

 

Yuri swallows thickly, wondering how much Victor actually knows about him. He hasn’t said much about himself since Victor has arrived, and he isn’t sure he’s ready for the galaxy’s greatest Jedi to know every intimate detail about him. But this, surely, is necessary. And to his own surprise, he finds himself speaking before he’s even worked out what he wants to say.

 

“The council’s been watching me for a long time. Master Celestino would never admit it, but I head them talking to him about my results in lessons. The other Padawans noticed, too. An older classmate failed his trials and asked me to show him how to do a certain kind of light saber stance. I lied and told him I didn’t know it.” Yuri’s vision swims a little bit as he speaks, panic threatening to overtake him at any moment. But it’s abated every time he looked over and meets Victor’s steady gaze.

 

“Why did you tell him that?” Victor prompts. Yuri lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in.

 

“Because he knew I knew how to do it.” And Yuri knows that doesn’t make sense so he continues on the next breath, “He expected me to do it better than anyone else in class. He knew I’d mastered it early on, and wanted to see it done perfectly. He’d feel bad for me if I couldn’t do it then, with an audience.”

 

Victor’s fingers smooth over his own as they had the night before and Yuri shivers, but doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t even want to. “You are very talented, Yuri,” Victor starts and Yuri wonders what exactly his frame of reference is for that statement, “but you are not perfect, and no one expects you to be.” Yuri nods, focusing on the way Victor’s fingers play over his, warm and damp from their run.

 

“Do you want to try something now?” Victor asks after a pause. And Yuri takes a moment to assess how strongly he feels his void before he nods in affirmation.

 

With gentle hands, Victor repositions them both so they’re facing each other instead of the water. Yuri lets Victor pick up his gaze this time and waits for further instruction.

 

“Close your eyes.” Victor directs. Meditation? Yuri does as he’s told, feeling vulnerable in a deep, indescribable way. For a while, there is nothing, but then, for the first time since Victor arrived a month ago, Yuri feels Victor’s force presence, strong and gentle. And Yuri gasps at the familiarity of the feeling. He is a youngling again, looking at Victor for the first time with stars in his eyes, wanting nothing more in the universe than to be just like him – to be a Jedi, to help people. He feels the corners of his mouth tug upwards into a smile and, for a moment, he thinks he might cry. Without waiting for instruction, Yuri cracks open his eyes and looks at Victor and his expression is softer than Yuri has ever seen it, pouring into Yuri with what can only be described as adoration. Yuri sucks in a deep gust of air, letting it chill him from the inside out.

 

When did the sun become so vivid? And has the sand always been so fine, so soft and damp under his fingers? But nothing is so bright as the blue of Victor’s eyes and Yuri doesn’t want this feeling to ever end. Yuri wants to touch Victor’s hand again, wondering how it would feel right now, in this moment to have a physical connection to him, but he resists that temptation, certain it will be far too intense of a sensation.

 

Yuri laughs breathily when he realizes Victor’s hand has started moving toward his of its own accord, manipulated by the fabric of Victor’s sleeve, which is pulling toward Yuri like a magnet. He swells a little with pride, knowing _he_ has done that. He’s moving an object through the force again. Victor laughs too and it’s possibly the most beautiful sound Yuri has ever heard.

 

They stay like this for a little longer, feeling the sun rise and cut just a little of the chill in the air. And though he is very reluctant to admit it, Yuri knows they need to head back. He has a sneaking suspicion Yurio will be angry if they spend too much of the day training without him.

 

So they start their run back, and Yuri feels like he’s seeing his hometown for the first time, too. He’s feeling and seeing so much, so much more than he ever has, even before the void manifested inside him. He feels like a living kaleidoscope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, word count on this chapter kinda got away from me. Also, went back and named the other chapters because I realized that was something I hadn't done. Hope you enjoyed! Let me know if there's something you're hoping to see in the future of this fic and I'll try to incorporate it!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Ripples

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That "M" rating ain't just for show! This chapter's pretty tame but I really doubt the rest of the story will be as far as sexy times go. Also, I realized that I accidentally shifted into present tense at the end of the third chapter and I kinda liked it? So now I've redone the whole story to be in present tense (lol).
> 
> Happy reading!

When they arrive back at the inn later in the morning, Yuri and Victor find that Yurio, in fact, has not been waiting with baited breath for them to return. Instead, Mari tells them he’s been shut in his room all morning. Not sleeping, Mari assures them – he’s been too quiet for that. Yuri suspects quietly that he’s been meditating, wondering if that’s how the boy centers himself in opposition to Victor’s running strategy.

 

“We should shower quickly,” is the thought Yuri chooses to voice as he and Victor make their way upstairs. Out the corner of his eye, he sees Victor nod in agreement. Then he freezes as he feels Victor’s fingers rest lightly on the inside of his elbow. The feeling is so much more intense now than it had been before. He notices Victor’s force presence again, strong and serene. A small part of his mind wonders if Victor’s been suppressing his own presence or if Yuri’s simply too clouded by his void most of the time to feel it.

 

“We could shower together. It would be faster and Yurio wouldn’t have to wait as long.” Victor’s voice is barely a whisper, but Yuri feels the vibrations of it against his ear as if Victor’s lips were skirting his earlobe. There’s something warm and unsettling stirring in his gut and it’s all too much. His vision swims a little and he jerks forward, putting his arm out of Victor’s reach.

 

“No, I, um, I think I’ll just— ” but Yuri is rushing up the stairs at lightning speed before he can finish, not sure how he would finish that sentence if he tried. He’s sure he sees a little smile play across Victor’s lips in his dash up the stairs and he has no idea what that’s supposed to mean but he sure is not prepared for any of it.

 

Yuri wants to take a long shower, to stay under the steady warm spray and let it dim the strange feeling in his gut but he knows he doesn’t have time for that. He’s not sure why he instinctively thinks a quick cold shower would be the second best solution to his problem until he catches his own naked appearance in the mirror just as he’s about to step into the water. Despite the mild chill in the room from the cold running water, red splashes across Yuri’s cheeks and down his chest, and when his eyes travel down a bit he notices what the warmth in his gut was from.

 

A shiver ripples up Yuri’s spine as he tentatively runs his fingers up his half formed erection. Well he certainly doesn’t have time for _that_ so he makes sure the water is as cold as it’ll go and hops in, hoping his problem will fix itself if he ignores it long enough.

 

 

 

Yuri realizes belatedly that Victor will surely realize that he just took the universe’s coldest shower when he tells Victor that the bathroom is open, silently cursing himself for not running some warm water before he left. He hopes beyond hope that Victor won’t ask him about that later.

 

Yurio’s out in the main hall by the time Yuri’s finished showering and getting dressed and is sporting a set of traditional Padawan training robes. It makes Yuri’s gut sink a little, as his mind immediately returns to his own set of Padawan robes, currently sitting uselessly in the bottom drawer of his dresser. His mother had custom ordered them from a shop in town when he was younger, so he would have a piece of home when he was away, and she’d sent him a new, larger set every few months when he was still growing. When Yuri had arrived back home all those months ago, he’d thrown them in the bottom drawer and buried them beneath layers of old pajamas he hadn’t looked at in years. He didn’t think he’d ever get to wear them again, and even now, he can’t imagine being considered a true Padawan by anyone, not even Victor. He thinks back to Victor’s promise to Yurio. Victor had to have meant that he doesn’t trust Yuri to be on his own with his powers as unstable as they still are. He isn’t here as his Master, he’s here to heal him. Nothing more. So Yuri tightens the strings on his sweatpants and sits on the floor next to Yurio, actively attempting to clear his mind and focus on Yurio’s force presence, hoping it’ll ground him a bit as Victor’s does.

 

Oddly enough, it kind of does. Yurio’s presence isn’t quite as potent as Victor’s, but it is surprisingly calm and Yuri’s reminded again of his talk last night with Victor after dinner. He thinks back, wondering if he had been able to feel Victor’s presence, even a little bit then, when Victor didn’t seem to be purposefully projecting it. Maybe yes? Yuri always feels it when Victor leaves a room, and his presence is always calming, and maybe the only reason Yuri hadn’t felt Victor the very first night he’d arrived was because he’d been so hyper focused on trying to numb his senses, anything to stop feeling the pain of his void.

 

While Yurio’s force presence is nice, it certainly isn’t the grounding force that Victor’s is. And it strikes Yuri in that moment that Victor might be the only thing keeping him from falling apart. Sure, Yuri has him for now, but what’s he going to do when Victor finally leaves for more important things? When the universe finally decides it’s done letting Yuri keep him for himself? Even if Victor does manage to heal him for now, the void will likely just open back up again when Victor leaves and Yuri will be back to square one. No matter what he does, Yuri’s going to be left with one option: turning himself over to the council.

 

“Hey, what’s wrong with you? Hey. Drop-out. Hey!” A small hand Yuri registers as Yurio’s shoves Yuri’s shoulder with enough strength to knock him over to roll on the floor. Yuri shakes his head and realizes with too deep of an inhale that he hadn’t been breathing. Well that’s embarrassing.

 

The teenager glares at him and Yuri knows exactly what he’s thinking. Victor’s wasting his time here. Yuri really is nothing but a failure of a Jedi who can’t even meditate for a few minutes on his own.

 

But then a voice, a very small voice at that, argues in the back of his mind that this haughty blonde teenager is wrong about him. It tells him that Yurio has no idea that Yuri’d been at the top of his class before the trials, that he’d been an ace at every subject, completed solo tasks, hell, he’d levitated an entire classroom full of people and this kid, this little kid that hasn’t even attempted his first solo task yet thinks he’s better than him?

 

Yuri feels a smirk tug at the corner of his mouth – an unfamiliar feeling, compared to the other smiles he’s been having lately. Yurio’s brow furrows deeper, somehow both more angry and timid at the same time.

 

The sharp ring of a single clap brings them both out of their staring match and Yuri whips his head around to see Victor standing behind them with his hands brought together, his signature too-big smile plastered across his face as he sings, “All right boys, ready to start training?”

 

\--------

 

They train for hours on the outskirts of the Katsuki family property. Victor has both Yuris on different training programs, which makes sense since Yuri’s only really felt the Force at full blast again for the first time earlier today, though he is surprised at how advanced the program he’s given is. He’s working on levitating and pushing small objects around the yard using the Force, all while balancing on one foot on a particularly tall rock.

 

Yurio, it seems, is a much more attentive student than Yuri expected him to be, though he clearly isn’t taking having to share the attention of his mentor well. More than once during their afternoon training, Victor attempts to focus on Yuri’s progress, only to have Yurio gripe and throw small pebbles at them. Yuri’s a little proud that he’s able to deflect most of them with the Force.

 

While Victor doesn’t show any outward signs of annoyance toward Yurio’s antics, Yuri does notice that his force presence seems to fade ever so slightly when Yurio calls for his attention, and grows again when he turns to help Yuri. Perhaps it was a proximity thing? But Yuri knows that’s not how the Force works – could Victor be purposefully detaching himself from the Force when his feelings turn negative? But that seems very dangerous, considering what detachment has done to Yuri. If Victor had found a way to control something like that… If controlling one’s attachment to the Force is possible…

 

“Yuri, focus!” Victor shouts with a clap and Yuri wobbles dangerously on his rock, the discarded bits of boxes and old pair of shoes he’d been floating dropping to the ground with a simultaneous thud. Yurio snickers and Victor claps at him too, which prompts the teenager to topple out of his handstand and roll out onto his back.

 

Victor sighs and looks out toward the dimming skyline. “Maybe we should end here for today,” he muses out loud. Yuri’s surprised at himself when a disappointed pout tugs at his bottom lip, and even more so when he hears Victor laughing next to him. “Don’t worry – we’ll have plenty of time to train again tomorrow and the next day, and the day after that.” One of Victor’s warm hands briefly falls on Yuri’s shoulder and he wonders if his face looks as disappointed as he feels when it leaves.

 

 

 

Dinner’s a bit livelier with both Yurio and Victor around. There’s talking and joking and shouting and laughing, and though it’s a lot of noise, Yuri finds it comforting, finds himself smiling through his meal even when he’s the one being made fun of. And when all the plates have been cleared away and conversations have come to an end, Victor and Yuri are left with the family room to themselves, as has become tradition.

 

Yuri sips on his tea slowly, taking little peeks at Victor. It’s silly really. He’s had Victor to himself like this for weeks now, but it still strikes him in this moment how truly amazing his life has become. He wouldn’t trade anything in the world for the thirty minutes he spends every night drinking tea with Victor, watching him lean lazily to watch the drama playing in the next room and play absentmindedly with the rim of his teacup. But tonight feels a little different and Yuri knows exactly why. Victor’s force presence has been touching his own all day, and still is now, though in this moment, it almost seems to be there by accident, resting gently around him like the warmth from a fire on a cool night.

 

Yuri basks in that warmth, boldly reaching out with his own feelings just to feel Victor a little bit stronger. The corner of Victor’s lip twitches when he does and Yuri wonders if he’s been caught, but Victor doesn’t say anything. In the briefest of movements, Victor settles his cheek into the palm of his hand and turns to face Yuri, wearing the gentlest of smiles. A very different kind of warmth flushes from Yuri’s face down to his toes and he can’t quite bring himself to want to move, despite the nerves gripping his stomach.

 

Everything seems to be moving in slow motion as Victor drops his gaze to the table, moves his hand forward just enough so it’s in Yuri’s reach, but not enough to actually touch him. Before he can even think the action through, Yuri’s reaching the rest of the distance, fingers shaking in anticipation. And then there’s calm. Their hands meet and fingers thread and the feeling’s different again, even from just last night. Their hands fit together as if they were made to be this way, as if they’d been waiting to be joined together again since they’d parted last night.

 

When Yuri looks back up again he finds himself caught in Victor’s gaze, but it’s not scary. In fact, he feels a little bit like he’s catching Victor back.

 

“Yuri…” Victor draws out the sounds in his name, his voice dripping with all kinds of emotions Yuri can’t place, but he somehow knows he feels them too. Whatever they are, he feels them all.

 

Yuri waits for Victor to continue but he doesn’t. They sit in comfortable silence, locked together by their hands and their eyes, unable to care about the life buzzing around them.

 

He’s not sure how much time goes by when Victor suggests they go to bed, but he knows it feels too soon. And from the look on Victor’s face, Yuri can tell he doesn’t really want to go either.

 

But eventually, they do disentangle, if only long enough for Yuri to take their cups, half full of cold tea, to the kitchen. When he comes back to the family room, he finds Victor exactly where he left him, eyes glued so securely to Yuri that he wonders if Victor had sat there, watching the doorway, waiting for him to reappear.

 

As Yuri approaches, Victor stands and connects their hands again and Yuri’s glad he does. The small connection is more grounding than any form of meditation he’s ever attempted.

 

Still connected, they walk down the hall, up stairs, all the way to Yuri’s bedroom door. Here they pause.

 

A breath passes between them before Victor asks, “Can I, Yuri?” And Yuri knows he’s asking to sleep together. He’s asked a couple of times before and Yuri’s always firmly denied him. It seemed embarrassing at the time and a little dangerous. What if Yuri had a bad dream and his void did something to Victor while they were both asleep? But now… he doesn’t want to say no. So he doesn’t. He doesn’t say anything at all – just squeezes Victor’s fingers with his own.

 

Victor’s entire face smiles as he breaks away and dashes into his own room, whispering that he’ll be right back. Yuri decides to go ahead and get ready for bed while he waits for Victor and goes into his own room, leaving the door slivered open behind him.

 

Quickly as he can, Yuri slips on his comfy sleeping sweats and an old T-shirt and stands in the middle of his room, feeling strangely out of place. He fiddles with a lose thread on the hem of his shirt, heart jumping as his mind places Victor beside him, sitting at his desk, on the edge of his bed, _laying_ in his bed.

 

Yuri jolts at the small knock to his bedroom door and freezes when long, pale fingers slowly pry it open until a flash of silver hair is visible.

 

“Yuri?” Victor’s still whispering, “Is it okay?”

 

Yuri nods before he realizes Victor can’t see him. His voice cracks a little when he says, “Yes, you can come in.”

 

Victor tiptoes inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click. His dark blue pillow is tucked under his arm and his eyes are still alight from his smile. Victor’s presence hits him again and Yuri feels his nerves seep into nothing, leaving behind a little smile.

 

“Where do you want to sleep?” Yuri asks, but he already knows the answer.

 

“With you?” Victor hugs his pillow to his chest and puffs out his lower lip in a mock pout Yuri’s sure would steal the heart of any sentient that had the privilege of laying eyes on it. He swallows hard and nods, not trusting his voice.

 

Yuri turns out the light and they climb into the little bed one after the other; it takes some maneuvering to find a comfortable position on his tiny bed with two pillows and two bodies – Yuri really hadn’t thought this through. After a few minutes of struggling (and a few giggles as they both contorted to fit in odd angles) they finally settle, Victor’s chest to Yuri’s back. Victor’s arm is folded over Yuri’s side, a small flush of heat running through Yuri again as he appreciates this small bit of Victor’s weight.

 

His heart is racing at the contact – maybe this was a mistake. After all, he’s only had a decent connection to the Force again for one day, and he still has no idea what happens to his presence when he’s asleep. Not to mention the sweeping strange feeling in his very bones at having this much physical contact with Victor – could Victor feel his heartbeat? It was embarrassingly fast by Yuri’s own judgment. Maybe Yuri was reading too much into Victor’s actions. Maybe he didn’t feel the things Yuri was feeling. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to – there was that lesson way back at the beginning of his Jedi training, something about warning them against significant attachments. But they couldn’t have meant _this_ – this feeling that finally made the world seem stable again. This couldn’t be the bad thing they were talking about.

 

A warm wave of Victor washes over Yuri, strong and calm, and Yuri’s worries fade into dim chattering in the background of his thoughts. Yuri turns under Victor’s arm to face him, eyes wide.

 

“How do you do that?” He asks. Victor reddens and drops his eyes to where his hand is now drifting slowly up and down Yuri’s side.

 

Victor laughs a little before he murmurs, “I was a little too obvious, huh?” Yuri frowns, not quite sure what that means, but he lets it slide to push for an answer to his question.

 

“Can you teach me to do it?” Yuri doesn’t notice his hand gripping the front of Victor’s shirt.

 

Victor’s eyes fly open as he looks at Yuri dead-on. “You’re not offended?” He whispers.

 

Yuri’s frown deepens, “Why would I be offended?”

 

Victor fidgets with Yuri’s sleeve, “Well, most people don’t like it when I… But you didn’t seem to mind, and you felt so…” He trails off, blinking slowly under Yuri’s expectant gaze. “But if you don’t mind…”

 

“I want to learn it!” Yuri nods enthusiastically, his fingers twisting into Victor’s shirt.

Victor’s face softens, eyes crinkling as his hand moves to brush a lock of hair from Yuri’s forehead.

 

“We’ll start tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How sexy do y'all want this to be? Full blown sex scene? Some heavy make-outs and slow fades to windows with rain on them? And don't worry, I haven't forgotten everyone's favorite steamed-bun thief. Not sure how I'm going to introduce him yet, but he's coming up soon.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. It's Not Like That

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no update! Depression's a sonofoabitch.

Time has never flown so quickly in Yuri’s life as it does the days he, Yurio and Victor train together, and Yuri has never felt so alive. Every day is filled laughter, training, bickering, and more laughter after that. And the sleep. Has Yuri ever had such restful sleep before this month? Not that he can recall. Of course, Yuri doesn’t spend every night with Victor – quite frankly, the intimacy of waking up together, bodies practically pressed into one, was a little overwhelming the first time they’d slept in Yuri’s bed. And it isn’t as if they can share Victor’s larger bed with Yurio’s room adjoined to it; they would never hear the end of it if Yurio caught them in bed together.

 

But it’s not like that, Yuri’s brain supplies quickly, making him lose track of the sock he’s attempting to jam onto his foot. He stumbles and catches himself on the desk. It isn’t like that at all… is it? Yuri backtracks through the handful of times they’ve shared a bed together over the past ten days. Yuri’s shared beds with friends before. Well, really only one friend. When he was living on the enclave, Yuri used to visit Phichit in his room and vice versa, and sometimes, when they lost track of time, they’d end up sleeping in the other’s room over night, and since Jedi were each only granted one bed per room… Well, Yuri didn’t think much of it. It was convenient to sleep together, attend classes together the next morning. So why does sleeping next to Victor feel so different?

 

Yuri’s heart sinks a little at the thought of his friend. He hadn’t stopped to say goodbye to anyone before he left the enclave months ago, but he did try to keep in touch with Phichit through hologram. The time difference between the two planets, however, has kept them from having any proper conversations. More often than not, they’ve ended up leaving messages for each other to find later. Phichit, of course, was very angry when he’d discovered Yuri left without a word, but he understood. He always understood.

 

Yuri stands up a little straighter and looks to the data pad sitting on his desk. Phichit is a Padawan, just like Yuri used to be. In fact, he should only be a few months away from his first attempt at the trials. He’s probably too busy to chat with Yuri about his confusing Victor-feelings, but if it were just a message he could listen to in his free time...

 

He picks up the data pad and plops on his bed. He’s got a few moments before Victor and Yurio expect him downstairs for force training, but not quite enough time to record a full voice message, so he settles on text.

 

Yuri stares at the blank text bar. He starts a sentence and deletes it. Then starts again, only to pause and delete it again. On his third failed attempt to start a question he grumbles and tosses the data pad toward his pillow. Oh, Victor’s pillow, not his. How did they get swapped?

 

But before he can ponder this thought too deeply, there’s a dim _ping_ from his data pad. He scrambles to pick it back up and finds a message notification from Phichit.

 

**Phichit: Something on your mind?**

 

How did he always know? Yuri’s fingers dance indecisively above his data pad. He squeezes his eyes shut, breathing in deep through his nose, then dives in.

 

**Me: How’s training?**

**Phichit: Nice try. Let me guess**

**Phichit: Is it a Victor something?**

**Me: …**

**Me: Maybe**

**Phichit: I KNEW IT**

**Phichit: Spill.**

**Me: Well… Remember when we used to sleep together sometimes in the enclave?**

**Phichit: Um not where I thought this was going but yeah**

**Me: Did it ever feel weird to you?**

**Phichit: …**

**Phichit: Yuri.**

**Phichit: What’d he do.**

**Me: No wait it’s not like that!**

**Phichit: Uh-huh.**

**Me: Really! It was just sleeping!**

**Phichit: “Weird” sleeping?**

**Me: Uh kind of?**

**Me: Why are you assuming he did something?**

**Phichit: Weird as in you made out or**

**Me: !**

**Me: Phichit!**

**Me: I just said it wasn’t like that!**

**Phichit: Okok**

**Phichit: But like did you want to**

Yuri stares at the data pad for a moment, suddenly not sure how he wants to answer. This is uncharted territory. His body’s _responded_ to Victor’s actions, but his body also responds that way sometimes because he forgot to pee before he went to sleep the night before. But he knows this is different. The full-bodied heat that rushes through him when he accidentally grazes Victor’s hip, when he absently runs his fingers through that soft platinum hair when Victor’s fast asleep…

 

**Phichit: Yuri? You there?**

**Me: Yes**

**Phichit: Wait yes you’re here or yes you wanna bone Victor**

**Me: Phichit!**

**Me: …**

**Me: Yes.**

**Phichit: YURI!!!**

Yuri’s data pad is flooded with a string of Iknewits and he feels a nervous grin tugging at his cheeks. It dissipates almost immediately as his mind catches up with itself. That small, prickling worry that’s been drifting in the background of his thoughts for weeks, maybe since the very first day Victor arrived at Hasetsu.

 

**Me: But Phichit he’s a Jedi**

**Phichit: Okay…?**

**Phichit: …**

**Phichit: Was there more…?**

Yuri worries his bottom lip with his teeth, heart sinking lower with each passing second. He’s been all but ignoring this for months, but now it seems so much bigger than before, so impossible to see past. How had he been so silly as to think he could keep _that_ kind of hold on Victor?

 

**Me: The Code**

**Me: The Council**

**Me: I can’t ask him to go against all that.**

**Phichit: What about YOU?**

**Phichit: Are you okay going against the “Jedi way”?**

**Me: That’s not even a question.**

**Phichit: Then why do you think Victor wouldn’t feel the same way?**

**Me: We’re in totally different situations!**

**Phichit: Yuri this man chased you halfway across the Galaxy.**

**Phichit: He literally dropped everything he was doing and flew straight to you.**

**Phichit: Do you really think he wouldn’t jump at the chance to get in your pants.**

Yuri starts a response but deletes it before he’s even finished typing the second word. His fingers do their indecisive dance above the data pad. His knee jerk reaction would be _no_ of course Victor doesn’t want in _Yuri’s_ pants. He’s never put much stock in physical appearance – vanity was something the Jedi had taught him to put aside – but he can objectively say there is nothing all that appealing about his physical body. He’s shaved a few pounds off over the past couple of months, mostly thanks to Victor’s morning runs, but all in all, he’s still a little… odd shaped. His thighs and gut are softer than they should be and always have been, no matter his diet or exercise routine. The shape of his butt has always made purchasing pants difficult, and his face is absurdly plain to the point of boring.

 

No, getting in Yuri’s pants could never in a thousand years be the reason Victor, angelic, beautiful, wonderful Victor, had chosen to come to Hasetsu.

 

Yuri evidently took too long to formulate this response, however, for when he looks down again at his data pad he finds a furious storm of messages from Phichit.

 

**Phichit: Yuri**

**Phichit: Yuri don’t you dare**

**Phichit: Don’t you dare think like this**

**Phichit: Yuri**

**Phichit: Stop**

**Phichit: Talk to me Yuri**

**Phichit: Stop thinking**

**Phichit: Oh crapcrap they’re calling lights out**

**Phichit: This conversation isn’t over Yuri**

**Phichit: I’m calling you as soon as I wake up tomorrow I swear**

**Me: Goodnight Phichit.**

With a sigh, Yuri powers off his data pad and rolls back to sit on his heels. He stares at the blank screen, wondering if he might be able to pour his thoughts into it if he concentrates hard enough. Anything to stop thinking about how inadequate this revelation has left him feeling. Putting into words what he wants has only made what he can’t have that much clearer.

 

Yuri was never going to be a Jedi. What had ever made him think he could be? His feelings for Victor practically scream dangerous attachment, yet here he is, falling deeper still into those very feelings. Practically wallowing in them. Oh, the scolding Celestino would have given him.

 

Of course it’s this moment Yuri’s eyes fall upon the pillow once again. An unassuming, navy blue reminder of just how badly he’s failing every last one of his teachings. Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. He’s only got, what, six more months max until Victor gets bored with him? Six more months at playing Jedi. Six more months of pretending he can keep Victor forever.

 

Oh right, the pillow. But before Yuri can do anything about switching Victor’s pillow back, his door flies open and bounces noisily against the wall. He nearly falls off the bed in his attempt to sit upright. Yurio’s standing in the doorway, chest heaving, with a small data pad covered in the print of some sort of animal fur clutched in his hands.

 

“Yurio, what— ”

 

But Yurio cuts his question short, running up to shove the data pad under Yuri’s nose.

 

“We have to leave. Now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter after... all that waiting... But! I'm already well into chapter 6, so fingers crossed The Motivation stays with me long enough to crank it out. And I updated all the previous chapters to fix small formatting things.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	6. Apologetic, but Firm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It looks like we're starting to get into the meat of the story! I wasn't expecting to get so alien-y but here we are? Idk. I'm flying on the seat of my pants. I'm exited. Let's get to spacin.
> 
> Come yell at me about yoi on tumblr and twitter:  
> http://jumpinglamps.tumblr.com  
> https://twitter.com/_jumpinglamps

They don’t spend much time packing. Well, the two Yuris don’t at least – it takes Victor a full three hours to pack his large, hard shell suitcase with more clothes than Yuri thinks he could wear in a month.

 

While Victor is packing, Yuri and Yurio wait downstairs with their small satchel and backpack stuffed and ready to go by the door. Yurio huddles in the corner of the couch, reading and rereading a message on his data pad. But Yuri knows the words aren’t changing; it still says that the conflict on Kuthos has escalated in the absence of the Jedi aid they requested three months ago (Victor had to remind Yurio in an even tone three times that he had not received the request for aid as an official mission until two months after it had been received by the council, and as such, had no way of knowing how dire the situation was). The Raithen inhabitants on Kuthos are disappearing daily, and, according to the report, the native Kuthorian people are refusing to release them. The Chiraians from the next city over aren’t responding to requests for aid. From the rather aggressive and colorful wording on the report, civil war seems imminent if some kind of intervention does not happen soon.

 

Yuri tries to focus on the questions his sister is asking him about the details of their trip, but he finds it difficult to make any sense of her words. He notices that Mari’s stopped talking and nods, which unsurprisingly is not a sufficient answer to her question, if the way she rolls her eyes and stomps away is any indication. He’ll have time to feel bad about that later.

 

Yuri knows his emotions are getting dangerous – he can feel panic rising up the back of his throat, hot and prickly and he swallows against it. Calm – he needs to find calm. But that’s getting increasingly difficult with Yurio’s noisy presence in the corner of the room. Yuri throws himself onto the opposite end of the couch from Yurio and lets his head fall back, eyes drifting closed. He grasps desperately onto the frayed edges of the Force, and with slow breaths, tries to will it back toward him.

 

So focused on the task at hand, Yuri almost doesn’t notice when Victor enters the room. Yuri doesn’t have to open his eyes to feel Victor walking toward him, feel him place his bags lightly on the ground and hover just over his upturned face. It does startle him though, when he finally opens his eyes to find Victor’s face staring down at him, impassive and blank.

 

Before he can even form the words of a question, Victor’s pulling back, a light smile painted across his lips as he attempts to pry Yurio away from his data pad. Yuri’s frozen momentarily as he realizes he can’t feel Victor at all, not even a whisper, until Yurio yanks him to the present.

 

“Hey, drop out, move your ass. It’s time to go.”

 

\--------

 

The two Yuris and Victor are the only passengers, apart from the pilot and one attendant, on the space shuttle bound for Thelion. Victor confiscated Yurio’s data pad the moment they left the inn, and while the boy did kick up a fuss about it at first, he’s been notably more collected since. Yuri knows he should be well on his way off the deep end into his void himself right now, given the panic he can feel bubbling under his every thought, but his focus has been mercifully split by Victor’s curious “serenity”.

 

Victor has been the picture of calm the entire time, but his presence has been eerily absent since they left. Yuri reaches, time and time again, only to be met with nothing. As if he were sitting next to a decorative cushion and not the brightest young Jedi in the galaxy. He wants to ask if something’s wrong, if maybe he’s worried that his pupils aren’t ready for the challenge set before them, but Victor’s expression seals Yuri’s lips.

 

Even as Yuri has trained with Victor these past few weeks, learning how to trap and release his own force presence, even as he has watched and felt Victor lock his own presence away, he has never seen this expression on his face. Blank. Like a doll. It’s unnerving.

 

Yuri steals a glance at him. Victor’s turned away from him, eyes locked on the floods of stars streaking past the windows. Yuri turns again to look at Yurio, who has fallen asleep across the aisle from them, sprawled over two seats.

 

For a moment, Yuri wonders if he has less time left with Victor than he’d imagined. This is Victor’s way of pulling away. He’s bored. He’s done playing Master and student. He’s reached into the depths of Yuri’s mind and now he sees just how weak it is, how incapable he is of ever being what Victor wants him to be. Then he notices Victor’s hand is shaking.

 

Victor’s cold, quivering fingers are wrapped up in both of Yuri’s hands before Yuri has a moment to think the action through. Silver hair flutters when Victor turns to look at him, and Yuri has to remind himself to breathe when he catches Victor’s eyes, wide open and more vulnerable than he’s ever seen them. Yuri’s fingers move automatically in soothing patterns across Victor’s cold hand, tracing veins and creases with gentle touches. Victor’s expression softens and he falls to the side, letting his forehead rest on Yuri’s shoulder. Again, Yuri reminds himself to breathe.

 

Shallow breaths puff out over Yuri’s shoulder and arm, warm and slow. He thinks Victor’s fallen asleep until he hears a whisper, inaudible if not for the fact it’s pressed directly into his left ear.

 

“I’m so glad you’re here with me.”

 

Yuri sucks in a breath and squeezes Victor’s fingers. Victor squeezes back. And there’s a tense moment where Yuri’s sure he feels his mind press directly against Victor’s – or is it Victor pressing against him? Neither of them release their presence entirely, but let their edges brush together. It’s not altogether pleasant – it leaves Yuri wanting, like watching a warm fire through a window while you freeze in the snow outside.

 

But Yuri squashes the squirm of disappointment writhing in his gut and allows himself to relax against the seat, lets his head roll to the side to rest on top of Victor’s. He’s not entirely sure why, but he can sense that this is the contact Victor needs now, and he’d be damned if Victor didn’t get it. Yuri would find a way to rip the stars right out the sky if Victor asked him to.

 

The quiet hum of the space shuttle rattles on as Victor’s breaths audibly slow down and even out. His fingers eventually go lax between Yuri’s hands, and Yuri finally feels the tiniest bit of Victor’s presence eek out. It’s so slight, he likely wouldn’t have noticed it if he weren’t already so desperately attuned to it. He nuzzles into the soft side of Victor’s platinum locks and the bend of his ear, enjoying the delicate musk that is so distinctly _Victor_ before allowing his own eyes to drift closed. Just for a moment – he’ll just rest for a brief moment. Then he’ll be awake again. He’ll be whatever Victor needs.

 

 

 

When Yuri wakes he finds himself pleasantly engulfed in warmth and in smell and feeling – in _Victor_. Almost instinctually, he curls himself in tighter around the source of this warmth, pushes his nose into its soft give to inhale a little bit more of that scent. Fingers brush back a patch of his hair, a gentle voice murmurs words his half-asleep mind can barely grasp. Are they in bed? They must be. He’s only ever felt this warm when they’re curled into each other in Yuri’s small bed. He wants to stay a bit longer. There’s something he was supposed to do, and it’s nagging at the back of his mind in little twinges, but surely it can wait a few more minutes.

 

Then there’s another voice mixed in with Victor’s, and this one doesn’t sound anywhere near as kind. Yurio, he registers. Ah, he sounds upset. Yuri should do something about that.

 

Slowly, Yuri lets his eyes sliver open, the words around him becoming more coherent. “Good morning, beautiful.” Victor. Everything’s blurry – his glasses must have been taken off. And when did he lie down?

 

“Will you sit up already? Fucking gross…” Ah. Yurio.

 

Yuri pushes himself up on his hands and fumbles around a little, grasping at the seat and – is that a leg?

 

His glasses are pressed into his hand and Yuri quickly puts them on, blinking at the sudden crisp outlines of everything around him. Oh. That was a leg. That was a _Victor_ leg.

 

Yuri scrambles, nearly falling forward into the aisle in an attempt to take his weight off of Victor’s lap. He barely registers Victor’s chuckle and Yurio’s half-hearted snort. His face is so hot, he’s not entirely sure he’d notice if someone lit him on fire.

 

Fingers are brushing lightly along the outside of Yuri’s thigh and the words he tries to say get trapped in the back of his throat in an embarrassing squeak. Yurio groans.

 

“Did you sleep well, sleeping beauty?” Victor’s accent is thicker than it’s ever been and it’s making Yuri’s head swim. And his presence is notably back as well, warm and all encompassing, and not helping the whole can’t-form-words problem. Yuri’s blinking rapidly and flexing his fingers, which have apparently twined together with Victor’s without him noticing. Yurio’s looking pointedly away from them both, grumbling under his breath.

 

Yuri manages to get out what he hopes is an affirmative grunt before he clears his throat. Timidly, he reaches his feelings out toward Victor in a semblance of an apology for sleeping later than intended while they should have been planning, a little afraid he’ll meet annoyance or boredom. But all he’s met with is peace, and maybe something a little warmer than that. It makes his shoulders slump and his eyelids flutter in relief. It’s the same Victor he’s woken up to every morning the past two weeks; the same Victor that stays up drinking tea with him every night after everyone else has gone to bed.

 

“Well,” Victor starts, letting his thumb run absent-mindedly over the back of Yuri’s hand, “we should be arriving soon. We should probably decide the best way to approach Thelion’s president. Yurio?”

 

Yurio startles in his seat “Me?”

 

“Of course! This is _your_ mission.”

 

Yurio puffs out his bottom lip and stares at the back of the empty seat in front of him. Yuri can almost hear his mind turning.

 

“Maybe start off apologetic?” Yuri offers as a way out of the uncomfortable silence. He nonetheless finds Victor’s nod encouraging.

 

“Good idea, Yuri. What do you think of that, Yurio?”

 

Yurio flinches – Victor’s not taking it easy on him. “It’s not like it’s our fault,” he mumbles.

 

“But it’s not the residents of Kuthos’ fault either.” Victor leans forward in his seat to get a better look at Yurio, who’s refusing to meet his eyes.

 

There’s a few more minutes of silence as Yurio plays with the edge of his Padawan robes, perhaps pulling at a loose thread. He doesn’t seem convinced, Yuri thinks as he leans back to let his gaze drift to the ceiling, eyes following patterns in the hammered metal there.

 

Victor obviously wants them to reach an answer on their own. He already knows exactly what they should do – Victor always knows what to do. Logically, Yurio should be the one doing the most work on this mission, given the task is supposed to be his first one without a Master to accompany him. But Victor’s also inadvertently made this a test for Yuri as well, otherwise, why bring him along?

 

“Fine.” Yurio’s voice startles Yuri into a more alert position. “Just one apology. But I’m not sucking up to the guy!”

 

“I believe the current president of Kuthos is a Raithen female, actually.” Victor smirks with a thoughtful finger pressed to his bottom lip. It’s a little distracting.

 

“Whatever.”

 

“And that’s probably a good idea – not being excessively flattering, that is. We’re there as a symbol of strength and wisdom, after all.” Victor winks as punctuation.

 

Yurio seems somewhat placated with this and relaxes in his chair.

 

A monotone voice cracks over the speakers in Yuri’s native language first, then in Common, announcing their impending landing. Yuri has to slide his tongue between his teeth to keep from clenching his jaw. He can’t embarrass Victor down there. He can’t let his feelings waiver or risk his void coming back. He has to act like a real Jedi, do what Victor would do. Victor’s expecting him to set some kind of example for Yurio too, though the teenager doesn’t seem to need one most of the time.

 

Yuri breathes deep through his nose and clutches Victor’s escaped fingers back into his hand, angled slightly behind his leg in hopes Yurio won’t notice. Victor squeezes back and calm gushes between them. He can do this for Victor – he has to.

 

\--------

 

Yuri’s not sure what he was expecting to find on Kuthos’ surface but it sure wasn’t an angry, balding Jedi Master with sleep in his eyes and fire on his tongue.

 

Master Yakov, Yuri rapidly figures out, is waiting on the landing pad and is yelling a string of near indecipherable words in both Common and the language he’s heard Victor and Yurio both slip into in previous conversations before the space shuttle doors have even finished opening.

 

From what Yuri can gather from the heated (and rather one-sided) conversation, Master Yakov has evidently not ever consented to Yurio’s departure from the enclave nor his new training regimen. He also seems none too pleased about Victor’s new “student,” from what Yuri can tell. Although it’s a bit difficult to decipher which parts of the conversation are about him and which are about Yurio. Both of his students don’t seem terribly rattled by his anger, so Yuri tries to cling to his calm through the auditory assault. He’s never heard a Jedi Master yell like this before, and while it’s not violent, it’s still startling all the same.

 

“Yakov, please,” Victor’s hands are raised, and he’s projecting so much of his calm energy, Yuri’s worried he’s going to exhaust himself. “At least let us speak with President Helinda for a bit, then you can yell at us more later.”

 

Master Yakov starts yelling again in what Yuri assumes is his native tongue before Victor swiftly cuts him off and asks him something in the same language. Yuri isn’t sure what’s being said but he knows it must be about him because Master Yakov throws him a deep and uncomfortably long glare before turning back to Victor.

 

When he responds this time, it’s in Common. “Oh, now you want to be responsible? Where was this attitude three months ago, hm? Bah! It doesn’t matter. Fine. I’ll take you to see her.” Red dusts the top of Master Yakov’s cheeks from exertion. He speaks with a thicker accent than Victor and Yurio and talks a little bit slower. “And stop with that stupid force projection – the last thing Helinda needs is to feel like she’s being coerced.”

 

Victor grins sheepishly at that and bounces behind Yakov, letting his hand brush carelessly over the length of Yuri’s arm as he passes. Yurio thumps his opposite shoulder and glances back.

 

“You coming, drop out?”

 

With a little, breathless laugh Yuri nods and hurries along with the others.

 

 

 

Master Yakov leads his small collection of Jedi and Jedi hopefuls past a number of heavily armed guards to a secluded entrance to what Yuri assumes is the presidential palace. Yuri’s not terribly familiar with Kuthos or the intricacies of its culture, but he knows a smattering of its history. Enough at least, to be a bit surprised at the heavy weaponry all the palace guards carry at the ready. This moon colony turned independent country doesn’t have a long history of war in its past – in fact, it had one of the most peaceful independence campaigns Yuri’s ever heard of.

 

The architecture in the palace is a somewhat jarring combination of ancient and modern. Old, rough stone walls rounded out to glass panels and hammered metal pillars. It seems as though the entire upper half of the building is made of multi-colored glass and metal beams, and it’s making Victor’s hair look like an ever-shifting, shimmering rainbow in front of him. The lower, dusty stone half of the building has large, arched cutouts along the walls, giving them a glimpse of the city just outside the palace.

 

Yuri doesn’t have much time to gander as Master Yakov moves them along at a hurried pace, past ornate art pieces and glass sculptures and past a group of what Yuri can only assume are important Raithens whose voices drop to a low murmur when they pass. He wonders passingly if Victor might have any idea what they’re saying – the Raithen language sounds a bit like an endless stream of vowels to Yuri’s ears.

 

The edge of Victor’s presence rests lightly along Yuri’s own just as it had earlier on the shuttle, and while it’s not the connection Yuri craves, it’s still a comfort, and helps keep his thoughts on a stable path. Apologetic, but firm. They hadn’t exactly been considering Master Yakov’s presence in their plans, but really, that shouldn’t change much, should it? It doesn’t seem as if much has happened since Master Yakov arrived, though he hasn’t given them much to go off of – Yuri least of all, since he’s only understood about a third of what the Master’s said.

 

Yuri stops automatically when he feels Victor stop moving. Master Yakov holds the party before an unassuming, frosted glass door. They’re all quiet for a moment, and Yuri hears Master Yakov murmur something unintelligible to Victor. And suddenly, Victor is gone. Physically, of course, he hasn’t moved, but his expression somehow looks distant now, and Yuri is more alone than he was before.

 

Before Yuri can stop to think, he’s caught in Master Yakov’s backward glance. His eyes are narrowed, and Yuri’s sure he can feel the small ripple of panic coursing under his skin. But he steals himself with a breath – he can do this. He’s done missions like this before. He’s taken tasks on far away planets, smooth-talked dignitaries who barely understood a word he said and kept balance where chaos wanted to be. And Victor. Victor is here. Victor is counting on him to do well, to prove to Master Yakov that he hasn’t been wasting his time.

 

He meets the Master’s gaze with as much fire as he can muster. Whatever Master Yakov sees there must sooth whatever worries he had, as his eyebrows raise and he turns silently away from Yuri again.

 

The door opens, and Yuri hears Master Yakov say in Common, “Madame President, may I present my former student, Victor Nikiforov, and current Jedi Padawans Yuri Plisetsky and Yuri Katsuki.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got something specific you want to see in this fic? Let me know and I'll see what I can do~


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